Flesh
by GolanTrevize123
Summary: Caleb served the Burning Legion with the utmost loyalty. All that he was repaid with was a cruel betrayal and a cold grave. Will he exact his revenge? Also, Arthas and Deathwing move towards their true fate.
1. Prologue: Cradle to Grave

_*My first story. Check it out and review. Note that everything used in this story belongs to Blizzard, except for my character, Caleb.*_

Never in his life would Caleb have imagined that it would end this way. He served the Burning Legion unquestioningly and was of course rewarded for it, despite his betrayal and defection from the Human race. He was so confident in the Burning Legion's ability to conquer the lands of Azeroth and transform it into a realm of chaos (which was what he wanted), that he couldn't see what was happening, even when others less skilled than him did. The Burning Legion was beginning to loss their foothold on this world as resistance increased and their casualties began to mount. Not to mention a severe drop in morale following the death of Archimonde the Defiler. Fortunately, through capable manipulation, he managed to flee to the barren wastes of Outland following the great purge of the World Tree. Now, many weeks later, he stood before Kil'jaeden the Deceiver, awaiting new orders.

He made his way through the toppling citadel until Caleb was at the feet of the mighty throne his master sat lazily on. With a gesture of his hand, Kil'jaeden ordered Caleb to listen intently.

"Welcome, my servant…my slave." Kil'jaeden greeted.

Caleb knew that what his master spoke of was true. Ultimately, he was just a slave to the forces of evil.

"What is thy bidding, my master?" Caleb ventured to ask.

As Kil'jaeden straightened himself on his throne, his face took on a menacing appearance. His eyes showed murderous intent, as a grin slowly crept in.

Caleb was beginning to fidget, as he usually did when he became nervous. He knew his master's vengeance was swift, but he had to venture further.

"Master?" Caleb almost whispered.

Kil'jaeden kept his devious stare on Caleb for a moment longer, before he decided to break the tension.

"You have failed me, my child…I hereby disavow you." He roared.

"What the…" Caleb was taken by surprise, so much so that he temporarily lost his breath. What was this, he thought frantically. No matter how atrocious the deed or how large the mistake, Master never considered disowning one of his top lieutenants.

Without so much as even a warning, arcane symbols wrapped his body in a cocoon of fel energy. Despite the noise, Caleb could still hear his master's demonic enchantments. They grew steadily louder, until Caleb realized the purpose of this spell. He realized the moment he felt it. His demonic powers, fearsome though they were, were being drained from him. The process was starting to accelerate, until Caleb no longer felt the darkness coursing through his veins. All he felt, at his point, was emptiness.

"I have taken your powers; now, I will take your life!" His master screamed. His face, twisted with anger and hatred, loosened and took on a more cheery demeanor. As Caleb lied broken and defeated in his bare hand, he said, "Consider my power…in a hollow grave."

With that, he tossed Caleb into a void he recently created, leading to the torn world of Azeroth, just starting to recover from the scars of the Third War. Traveling through the void, Caleb felt the last vestiges of life slipping through his fingers, as his soul was being torn to shreds. Finally, the darkness was seeping into his mind, everything else being pushed aside. Darkness was all he envisioned from his past, and darkness was all he saw; whatever remained of his soul entered the Twisting Nether. He had the chance to watch his body melt into a puddle of flesh and then to simply fade away. There weren't even any ashes to indicate he ever existed.

And so he burned.

It seemed as if an entire Age had passed before Caleb finally returned to the corporeal realm. He awoke in a body he no longer knew. It was one that had refused to rot, protected from putrefaction by some unearthly link to his old master. The pain of protesting muscle and flesh invigorates and awakens him. He welcomes it. It distills the fury and hate into the maelstrom raging in the center of his mind.

An agonizing cry breaks out of him, shattering the stone lid of tomb in which he lies, knocking loose sediment, cobwebs and the small, unnoticed creatures that have shared his grave with him. A single word rings out through the darkness that was his home, echoing Kil'jaeden's lingering howl: "Why?"


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome to Your life

*_Caleb continues his adventure. A human/night elf romance will occur in later chapters.*_

The air outside wasn't as foul as it was inside the tomb from which Caleb emerged. However, this wasn't saying much. The land that now stretched before him resembled a barren wasteland that possessed no traces of life whatsoever. Caleb was dumbfounded for several moments before he realized where he now stood. How could he not recognize the shape of his home during his days of innocence? He was in Lordaeron. Even during the Third War, it had not looked this bad. Many questions were now rushing through Caleb's mind. How much time had passed since the invasion? Just how did I get here? What could have transformed this mighty land into a shell of its former self?

At least one answer immediately came to him. The Scourge! Caleb had become so obsessed with the Burning Legion that he didn't give a single thought as to tool that made their campaign possible. The Legion may have failed, but could the Scourge have finished the job? Did they achieve world domination at last? Caleb did not know the answers to these questions, but he was determined to find out.

Now he turned his attention to himself, to observe his new body. He knew well enough his old one had perished. Caleb was surprised at how similar this new vessel felt. He had a stocky build, slightly muscular, with pale grey skin. He was tall, but not exaggeratingly so. His medium-length black hair had been converted to a white mat of fibers. His light brown eyes he sported before had been replaced by ones that glowed bright red. It was the sign that he was no longer human, yet he didn't feel as if he had become undead. This is mainly due to the fact that his body hadn't decayed at all. Whatever curse, incantation, or spell he was under, Caleb wasn't entirely sure. All he knew is that, in his body, mind and whatever was left of his soul, he was no longer mortal. He would have to walk the lands of Azeroth, until he is either slain or he leaves for new opportunities.

A wretched howl echoing in the distance brought Caleb out of his train of thought. The nature of it sounded like it came from an undead being. He knew that he was in no shape to fight the hordes of fel creatures that now roamed the countryside.

This matter of power drew his attention back to the tomb from where he emerged. There were other bodies in there that hadn't decomposed to the point where they were useless. In order to regain some of his lost strength, Caleb must devour the bodies.

Caleb entered the dusty chamber with haste, searching greedily for the vessels. After some time, he realized there was but one body left in the chamber. Chanting a fire spell of demonic origin, he lit a nearby torch to get a better look as to who the body belonged to.

As soon as he did so, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared blankly at the corpse. Caleb knew who this was. It was Ishreale, his partner during the days of the Burning Legion and his only real friend during that service.

So you suffered the same fate as I, huh, Ishreale, Caleb wearily thought.

Now, he knew what must be done. With heavy hands, he dragged Ishreale closer to the flame. With that, Caleb dug his hands into the corpse's torso, ripping his organs out and whatever other entrails he had to offer.

As Caleb did so, he began to mutter a demonic chant, "For truly, I say unto you, that unless you eat the flesh of the living and drink their blood, you have no life in you…"

Now that the organs were in his bloody hands, he raised them over his head and began to drink the fluids that were streaming out of the many openings they had. As Ishreale's life force went down Caleb's throat, he felt his own power increase. It seems Kil'jaeden made the mistake of not taking Ishreale's demonic powers, choosing rather to kill him since he wasn't in the same league as Caleb.

A foolish mistake on his part, Caleb thought with a touch of arrogance.

It took several more minutes before the ritual was complete. Caleb wiped his hands on the rags he wore. He knew he had to get some new clothes. He shot a glance at his battered companion, no longer recognizing the pile of remains that lied before him.

Caleb said, "Forgive me, old friend."

A fraction of his power had returned to him, but he was aware of the long road that must be taken before he could face Kil'jaeden again. The maelstrom still raged in his mind, as the only emotions left to him were anger and hatred.

As he made his way down the cobbled road leading to the ruins that lied in the distance, being what was left of Lordaeron Palace, he thought, there was only one prevailing thought: vengeance.

And that could only be measured in one thing, that which could be cleaved and torn: flesh.

*_Review please.*_


	3. Chapter 2: Even Death May Die

*_Caleb finds a new world upon his return*_

It's amazing what the Undead can do, Caleb thought as he downed another mug of ale.

He forced himself into the darkest corner of the tavern and tried to go unnoticed. His red eyes glowered in the midst of the undead that surrounded him. While thoughts of vengeance and hatred still flooded his mind, thoughts of what his next step might be were persistent.

Fool, Caleb thought as Kil'jaeden entered his mind, you are already dead.

His time in the tavern was not just for show. He heard some interesting tales among the more intelligent of the undead. Within the length of just four hours, he knew the aftermath of the so-called "Third War". The Forsaken, as they called themselves, have allied with the brutish Horde; the Draenei, a race he only heard from Kil'jaeden and Archimonde, landed on Azeroth and make a pact with the Alliance. The Blood Elves, pathetic remnants that they were, have also joined the Horde. Caleb was surprised to hear that Illidan Stormrage, Malfurion's cursed brother, had made a name for himself in Outland, but was later slain by a group of heroes. It is still not known whether he is truly dead or not. The damned prince, Arthas Menethil, had also risen to prestige. Caleb personally knew him, having met some time ago. But their moment was brief and Arthas had most likely forgotten about him.

Even more disturbing was that Arthas had become the Lich King himself, fusing with the soul bound in the enchanted helm. However, Caleb was not prepared for what he heard next.

"Are you sure?" An undead warlock asked his warrior companion.

"Yes, I received the news this morning." the warrior replied, "The Lich King has been slain by a group of adventurers along with the aid of Tirion Fordring. I honestly didn't believe it at first, but it's been confirmed. Arthas is dead."

There were few things that stunned Caleb after the hell he had been through, but this simply paralyzed him. Arthas, having become a death god, ruling swarms of undead creatures and wielding the power to conquer this world, had been defeated. This was a possibility that Caleb did not foresee.

It seems that even death may die, Caleb thought.

Anyway, the time for reminiscing was over. He had more important things to do. Having no gold on him, he quietly snuck out of the tavern without even so much as a glance in his direction. The green light emanating from the buildings that dotted the street he was walking on exposed his full figure. The leather trench coat, hat and boots, along with a white linen shirt were all gained from a rogue he killed on his way to Undercity. He also gained a nice set of daggers so that he now had something to kill with other than his demonic spells.

This won't do, he wearily thought.

Cocky as he was, even he knew that even with his strength having returned, he would still need help when the time came to face Kil'jaeden once more. But that was the problem. He didn't know who to call upon. The Horde in general distrusted the undead, and although he could pass himself off as merely a powerful human warlock with his ghastly features, he could never ask the Alliance for help for if they discovered what he has done up to this point, they would rather die than help him. An idea then came to him. His allies may not necessarily still be alive, but not undead either. Yes, he would have to find fallen allies dotted across Azeroth and bring them back to the corporeal realm using his advanced resurrection spells, courtesy of Kil'jaeden. Although he removed his powers, he couldn't remove Caleb's knowledge and that was his real strength. Now, he needed to find these beings that were once powerful and famous in their own right and to give them a second chance at life.

And he knew just who to look for.

It was risky, but he had to find Arthas' corpse. The last time he met the fallen prince, it didn't end well. But Caleb had no choice; he had to make this work if he were to ever get his revenge. This is a path that he had to follow to the bitter end. Nothing else mattered now.

Finding the Bat Handler and quickly plunging one of his daggers through the wretched creature's skull, Caleb took off with the mount so that his presence wouldn't attract further attention. Finally exiting the ruins that were Undercity, Caleb turned his thoughts to the frozen wastelands of Northrend. He had to find the corpse of the former Lich King and fast. Who knows what his killers have done with it? Maybe he wasn't too late, and hopefully his mount could get him there soon enough.

Realizing that he could soon have Forsaken on his tail, he kicked the reins of the bat so that it flew even faster than before. Caleb glanced back to see Undercity fading into a silhouette and took a moment to plan his route to Icecrown Citadel suddenly remember that he had a safe house near an abandoned mining town not far from the citadel. If he could reach it, maybe some of his equipment, spells and summons were there. He would need all the help he could get, after all.

Now, Caleb took a moment to rest. There would be plenty of time for killing, but now he needed to relax and prepare for the coming onslaught.

Before he could do so, however, he spotted an Alliance ship heading in the same direction he was. He stared blankly at it for a few moments, when a malicious grin soon swept his face as he fantasized about what he could do to those onboard.

"He he," Caleb snickered, "you're going to need a bigger boat."

He then pulled on the rein and swept down towards the doomed vessel.


	4. Chapter 3: Thin Ice

_*It's been some time. Anyway, here's the next chapter. This time, Caleb finds someone that will remind him of what he once was.*_

Caleb was washing the blood and guts from his boots and cracked his knuckles.

"Pathetic insects." he sneered.

Whatever passengers were left onboard were now in a state of panic. When Caleb first landed on the ship, they were quite confident they would repel him. But now, with the blood of their comrade spilled and overflowing into the sea, they eyes were full of nothing but sheer terror.

"By the Light, he's killed them all!" one shouted.

"We're no match for him! Abandon ship!" another cried.

Caleb, however, had no intention of letting them go. With a quick incantation and a flick of his wrist, many of remaining passengers were reduced to a pile of torn limbs and crushed insides. He was determined to kill everyone on board. Even so, there were still a slew of obstacles. A paladin burst out from below the deck and boldly challenged Caleb.

"Beast!" he shouted, "I'll send you to the depths of Hell myself!"

That was the last thing he ever said in this life. In the blink of an eye, he dodged the oversized mace the paladin was wielding hacked one his legs off. A piercing scream erupted from the helpless adventurer who was now at the mercy of his attacker. Another quick slash decapitated the one-legged paladin.

Caleb now turned and gazed at what he had done. The brave adventurers and crew that once populated the ship now lied dead, slain like animals. Caleb was sure that none of them survived and proceeded to sink the vessel. He called the mount that was circling the ship overhead and jumped onto the saddle. Once he was at a safe distance, he whispered briefly before a fireball generated from his palm and quickly grew to about two yards in diameter. With a swift motion, he threw at the ship, creating a large hole on its side. Slowly, but surely, the vessel was sinking, eliminating any evidence that a massacre had just taken place.

Once the ship disappeared below the sea, Caleb turned his mount towards the shores of Northrend. They hadn't changed much since his last visit. The ice and snow still covered a portion of the beach and the trees looked as dead as ever.

Hmmm, thought Caleb, I think I'm having déjà vu here.

He landed momentarily and dismissed the mount. He took a quick glance around the beach and noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Ice, snow, sand, and a few crustaceans populated the dead shore. Upon closer inspection, however, he noticed several marked upon the sand. He drew closer and found that they were footprints coming from the sea and heading towards the dense forest. He also noticed the blood that followed the footsteps.

Looks like one got away, Caleb thought angrily.

Cautiously, he followed the footsteps into the dark forest. Caleb noticed the sun was starting to set. After about fifteen minutes of searching, he found the footprints finally came to an end. At the end there was a rather beautiful night elf lying unconscious; clothes torn and blood pouring from a wound most likely caused by Caleb. His initial thought was to kill her, but then he realized that she looked rather young for a night elf. After brushing the dirt from her face, he realized that she was just a girl.

Slowly, he stood up and looked at his bloody palms. After what seemed like hours, he clenched them, ground his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. His knees buckled and he eventually fell on them. His glowing eyes then opened to look at the night elf once more. The realization was simply too much.

"By the Nether," he said in a chocked voice, "what have I become?"

Wasting no time, he turned the girl over and applied first aid. Although Caleb rarely got hit in battle, he knew the having a skill in first aid was crucial to surviving war. After he applied the bandages and the healing spells, he picked up the unconscious night elf in his arms and proceeded to take her to his hideout.

Night was already upon by the time he reached the abandoned mining town. He looked for the storage house and opened up the false wall located inside. Placing the girl onto the bed, he wrapped a blanket around her cold body. He took a moment to look at her features. Smooth velvet skin, snow white hair (just like his), luscious curves, soft perky breasts…

Caleb shook his head and looked away. He knew he could never have a relationship with her. She was a beautiful, young night elf while he was Kil'jaeden's reject. She could never like him if she knew the truth. He then moved to remove his trench coat, washed up and settled into his own bed. He didn't even know how to introduce himself…or how to explain what he's done.

Dawn broke and Caleb woke to find the night elf still in bed. He got dressed and pulled up a chair right next to her bed, waiting for her to wake up. She eventually woke, churning in her bed as she stretched.

"Uh," she moaned, "where am I?"

"You're in my hideout, little elf?" Caleb spoke softly.

She immediately spun around and looked with wide eyes at him. They glowed just the same as Caleb's, but with a silvery color to them. She then drew herself up to the wall next to her and pointed in a wild manner at him.

"N-no!" she stammered, "I k-know what y-you did. Monster! You s-stay away from m-me."

"Calm yourself and just listen to me" Caleb said, "I know what I did was atrocious and unforgivable. But I saved your life and you at least owe me a sign of gratitude."

"Huh?" the night elf spoke, then taking a moment to look at the bandages, "Oh."

"That's right." Caleb spoke with satisfaction in his voice, "Now can you start by telling me what your name is?"

The night elf was slightly dumbstruck at first, but then recovered and spoke hesitantly, "O-oh. Um, well, I'm Usara Voltain Uther."

Caleb froze momentarily, and said "You wouldn't happen to be related to Uther the Lightbringer, would you?"

She lowered he head and spoke softly, "No…I'm not, although many think I am. You see…"

Before she could finish her sentence, she realized her lips were now pressed against his, but was too shocked to respond in any manner. Both Caleb and Usara continued making out for the next few minutes, their tongues massaging each other. The kisses grew more passionate and her body grew hot. She muster the strength to push him away, if only gently.

"Mm," Caleb spoke as he licked his lips, "just as I thought."

"P-please, I don't even know your n-name." she blurted out.

A seductive grin swept Caleb's face, "I'm Caleb, my horny little night elf."

She was now blushing and fumbling around before shouting angrily, "Hey! What kind of girl do you take me for?"

"Considering how you were kissing me back there, I could guess." Caleb shot back.

The blush grew even more intense, as her rigid face softened. "Uh, well, I was kind of enjoying it. I really didn't want to push you way, but I just couldn't take it."

"Why not?" Caleb ventured to ask.

Usara grew even more hesitant before responding, "I…I don't know. But what I do know," and here she smiled, "is that I want you to kiss me again."

"With pleasure." Caleb spoke coolly.

*_Well, that's Chapter 3. Reviews would be appreciated.*_


	5. Chapter 4: Second Chance

_*This is the fastest update so far. Here's Chapter 4. This time, Caleb tires to find Arthas' corpse.*_

Quite some time has passed since the little session between Caleb and Usara had ended. Caleb was now preparing to leave, picking up one of his old staffs and some scrolls from the cabinet. Usara was sitting at the side of the bed, staring at the floor, still trying to figure out what just happened. Caleb was now at the door and before he left, he turned to the night elf for one last remark.

"Usara…What happened back there doesn't matter, at least not in the long run. Just know that it was my will and not yours that it even occurred. There's some food in the right cabinet and additional clothes that you might need. Oh and please try not to escape; this door has a trigger on it that will alert me if anyone breaks it. I'll be back later this night. Expect company."

With that, he shut the door behind him and turned the lock. The night elf was, to say the least, even more dumbstruck than before. She glanced at her bandage, then at the door, and then at her bandages again.

What the HELL just happened? Usara thought, staring with wide eyes at the door from which Caleb just exited.

Caleb was well past the mining town, and now strolling towards IceCrown Citadel, choosing not to use his mount for fear of drawing unwanted attention. His thought had turned away from the night elf and towards Arthas.

Just where the Hell are you buried, Death Knight? Caleb thought furiously. His moment with the night elf was actually quite exhilarating. Indeed, it's been quite some time since he's been around another woman even if it was only to see how she tasted like. However, he knew it wasn't a genuine act of passion. What happened between them was merely a test to see if Caleb's mind control prowess was still of use. Indeed it was.

But…He couldn't shake this feeling. It was something he never felt around a female before. Sure, he had his share of experiences, but this one felt different. He wasn't sure what it was, but he would find out nonetheless. Now, this issue of his revenge had returned. Arthas would prove a great ally, but he might not help Caleb. Caleb's mind control can only get him so far. And besides…

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound nearby. Caleb quickly hid behind a dead tree. Two beings were now walking down the same dusty trail he came from. Caleb only eyed the coffin they were carrying on either end. He soon realized the two beings were in fact soldiers of the Argent Dawn. Caleb couldn't help but overhear the conversation they were having. To tell the truth, it disturbed even him.

"We got you now, you bastard." One of them snarled.

"Before we bury you, we're going to make you pay for what you did to all of Azeroth!" the other screamed.

Caleb eyes were now growing wide.

Could it be? He thought, Am I really that lucky, to have the enemy carry my prize right to me?

The two men unloaded the coffin and proceeded to abuse the body that lay inside it. Caleb took a quick glance towards the coffin. A large grin soon swept his face as he realized that fate has just favored him; that his dream of revenge is now one step closer. He didn't know how, but chances are that these two guards may have stolen Arthas' body for the purpose of revenge. Or maybe this is where he is to be buried; somewhere inconspicuous. He really didn't know, and didn't care. Only his prize mattered.

It was Arthas, the former Lich King.

Without a second to spare, he two guards fell in one sweep from Caleb's blade. He now knelt beside the body and examined it. It looked like a corpse that was a least a week old, but then that is how the dead appeared. Caleb swiftly took a scroll from his pouch and prepared the ritual. It was not a common resurrection spell, but rather one that binds the souls of the fallen to their respective corpses, ensuring their immortality, even in combat. Using the blood from the two dead guards, he formed the arcane symbols around the fallen prince. Once he was finished, he began the incantation.

"…come forward blessed one; know your calling, come forward oh blessed one…" Caleb mumbled.

The bloody symbols soon took on a glow as the spell was starting to work. Arthas' body started to twitch as life (or whatever remnant of it) returned to him.

"…accept our humble gratitude for your offering in death you give life, may you find wings to the kingdom…" Caleb spoke in a louder tone.

Arthas' body was now moving in a wild spasm. The symbols shone brightly, forming a red halo above them. The spell was nearly complete.

"…let him cross over, release him, Gods release him!" Caleb screamed.

The light engulfing the symbols simply exploded and a powerful light shone from Arthas' gaping mouth. The light disappeared as quickly as it arrived, and Arthas' body lay motionless. Within a minute, however, his body started to move and his eyes snapped open. They had a light blue hue to them that shone with little intensity.

"Is this Hell?" Arthas whispered.

"No; this is the real world." Caleb spoke in a matter-of-factly tone.

Arthas shifted in whatever was left of his armor to one side, so as to get a better look at his savior. His face was not one of surprise, but of sadness and then anger.

"Caleb?..." he uttered, "How dare you show your face to me after what you've done…I-I…will make you suffer for refusing to leave me to the afterlife!"

"Do you really think you're a match for me in your current state?" Caleb glared, "You no longer have the powers of the Lich King, oh fallen prince. I doubt you can take on some lowly forest animals, let alone me."

Arthas grinded his teeth with as much fury as he could muster, before asking the man who gave him a second chance at life the purpose behind his act.

"Why?" he whispered, then shouting, "Why! What reason do you have for bringing me back to this world?"

Caleb merely eyed the death knight, before saying "Arthas. Know that it is not your fate to die here. Know that death, even after the pillaging of your soul, is a destiny reserved for cowards. Are you a coward, Arthas?"

Arthas was now staring blankly at Caleb. With the power he had before his demise, he never even gave a single thought to this simple question. Yet now, in his current state, he had to evaluate himself. Was it even worth it anymore? Why should I keep fighting? Does any of it even matter? These questions flooded his mind at a rather astonishing speed. He pressed his eyes shut and look to his side.

"I am no coward…" he muttered.

"Excellent." replied Caleb, outstretching his arm for the prince to grasp, "now take my hand, old friend, and we'll work this out."

Arthas grasped his hand and pulled himself to his feet. He couldn't believe that he is now alive. After the combined efforts of the Alliance and the Horde, after all they sought, after all they struggled, and it has resulted in yet another stunning failure. He almost burst out in laughter at the thought, but decided to suppress this. In the end, he would have the last laugh. His attention now turned to his savior.

"What do you suppose we do now, Caleb?" Arthas spoke blandly. The shock from his revival had worn off.

"First things first." Caleb spoke softly, "We must restore your powers as a death knight. I realize that this means restoring you to your former position as Lich King, but know, we must find you a weapon worthy of replacing Frostmourne. And I think I have just the weapon in mind."

"Oh," Arthas responded, "and just what is this weapon?"

"You'll see soon enough," Caleb said, "but now, we shall head back to my hideout and plan further from there. I already have someone staying there and I would appreciate if you showed some respect towards her."

"As you wish." Arthas respectfully said. This was the first time since his ascension to the Lord of the Damned that he actually showed some respect to another being.

It wouldn't be the last, either.

_*Well, that's Chapter 4. Reviews are appreciated. I could use some feedback. Thanks.*_


	6. Chapter 5: Butchery Loves Company

_*Another update. Caleb, with Arthas, continues his journey.*_

When one thinks about it, it's quite amazing how fast the Argent Crusade evacuated from Ice Crown Citadel and ultimately from Northrend. At least, the bulk of their forces did. A few remained behind to clean up any undead and keep their numbers in check. All of Azeroth now took a breath of relief, having dealt with yet another nightmare. Or so at least they thought. Caleb and Arthas were now walking down the beaten path towards the mining town, now long dead. With most of his armor gone, Arthas was merely in linen clothes and the thundering that he was so used to when he walked was now gone. Gone were the days of the former Lich King. Simply replaced by a new one, a mere shadow of a being with no intention of flexing its full might and with no ambition whatsoever. Just keeping a leash on the damned and nothing more. Nothing.

Damn that Bolvar. Damn that Tirion. Damn that…_Jaina_. Damn everything and everyone.

"So." Caleb spoke up suddenly, "What of the new Lich King? Surely, there must be one, for the undead would already be upon us like flies on a carcass. Tell me, Arthas."

Arthas, having been distracted from his thoughts, spoke, "An Alliance bastard who goes by the name of Bolvar Fordragon. He was a paladin once, before I broke both him and his pathetic Light. At least I thought I did. Now having been spared death, he took it upon himself to become the new Lich King, knowing he could never return to the world of the living."

"Interesting." replied Caleb, "But that still doesn't answer my question. What does he do, exactly, now that there is no one left to challenge him?"

"Nothing." Arthas replied, repulsion in his voice, "Simply nothing."

"Well, his rule won't last long, anyway." Caleb spoke coolly, "We'll both see to that." And here he winked.

Arthas' pale blue eyes widened a bit as he took in the full implication of this last statement. "And then what? Am I, Arthas Menethil, to take up the role once again just to be struck down by Tirion and his foolish Crusaders?" Here he grew furious.

"That is not what I meant;" Caleb replied cautiously, "What I meant was…" He paused.

"What is it?" Arthas spoke up a moment later.

"My little friend found a way out of her cage…" Caleb replied, restrained fury in his voice. "Let's hurry back to the hideout; I have a feeling it won't take long for the Crusaders to figure out what happened to two of their lackeys."

Both men were now running back to the town. After several moments, they arrived at the hideout. The front wall that served as the entrance was clearly slit wide open, almost as if the night elf had used brute force to open it. Caleb, however, knew this wasn't true for residual arcane energy was left in the opening. He wondered how this night elf could be a mage. He never heard of such a thing. First time for everything though. Caleb bent over and examined the tracks in the snow. They led directly back to the shore form which both he initially came from. Caleb simply smiled at this while Arthas looked on.

"Well, she's no hunter, I can tell you that much." Caleb snickered, "but I should find her in a few minutes. Wait here and keep out of sight."

"Fine." Arthas grunted as he entered the hideout.

Usara was panting as she ran though the dead wood leading to the shores of Northrend. She was only half a kilometer away and decided that she had to summon all of her strength to run the last bit of distance. As a mage, she wasn't really accustomed to running this much, but she had to make do. She looked upon the shores with glee just before receiving an elbow in the face that broke her nose and sent her flying through the air. She regained herself after a while, blood dripping from her nose.

Caleb simply walked towards her and glared down at the night elf. "Well, well, well; what do we have here?" he sneered in a menacing fashion.

"Y-you…" Usara uttered, "I'm not g-going back to that little hellhole you call a h-home. You have no right to keep me as your captive. You c-can rot in Hell for a-all I care, you-"

Caleb reddened at this. "Funny." He allowed a cruel laugh to escape his throat, "One moment, you were in my arms like a whore and now you defy me? I will make you suffer for this."

"Fat chance, red eyes." She yelled. Her mage instincts kicked in and she muttered and incantation, sending a bolt of arcane energy directly at Caleb's face. She was horrified to see that it didn't even faze him. She muttered another spell, this time a bolt of ice hit his torso. Again, no effect. Another spell was quickly drawn up, a ball of fire it was, and she hurled it with all her might at her assailant. After the initial explosion there was a cloud of smoke that lasted for several seconds. Once it faded, Usara went pale upon seeing that not only did the fireball not shake him; it didn't even leave any burn marks. No scars. Nothing.

"What the Hell?" she managed to speak, a wad of blood ejecting from her nose, "…What the Hell are you?"

"Is that all?" Caleb spoke. Usara was taken aback at how clam he appeared. "Is that all you've got? Very well, then; allow me to teach you what true power is…"

Before she could get a chance to protest, Caleb's eyes widened to the point of bulging and the red glow they had grew more intense. Within a split second, Usara flew against a tree, hitting it with such force that it broke several of her ribs. She now lay twitching beside the tree, coughing up some blood as well. The poor thing didn't have any strength left.

"Caleb…" she whispered before passing out.

Caleb's eyes were now glowing at their normal intensity. "Wench." He snarled, "Now I have to heal your wounds all over again."

He decided that he wasn't going to use bandages again. Instead, he used his magic to reconstruct her broken bones. Within a quarter of an hour, she was as good as new. He hauled her up over his shoulder and carried her purple ass back to the hideout. Soon, they arrived back as the sun was setting once more. Caleb felt her body move and realized she had regained consciousness.

"Uh..." she winced as she felt her ribs, "Caleb…put me down this instant…"

"As you wish, milady." He spoke in monotone as he dropped her from shoulder length. She now groaned as her ribs ached even though they were healed.

"That's not what I meant, you son of a bitch!" she screamed.

"Enough." Caleb now glared, cutting of any more of her protests, "I want you to say hello to a friend I just picked up. I think you'll like him." He couldn't suppress a cruel laugh at this.

As both the human and the night elf entered the hideout, the both saw Arthas lying on the bed, sleeping one off. Caleb simply looked on, but as for Usara…Well, let's just say that although she had her experiences of fear (as all beings on Azeroth had); this one caused her to nearly shit her pants. She clutched a wall and tried to stay on her feet as she began to fade out.

"It…can't…be…" she sobbed as tears fell down her face, "It…just can't…no…"

She finally passed out again. The sight of the former Lich King, alive, nonetheless, was simply too much for the night elf to take. To her, the nightmare that had nearly consumed all of Azeroth, all of her friends and family, was now sleeping right in front of her. It wasn't over, and she now feared it never would be.

Arthas, the (former) Lord of the Damned, had returned.

"By the Nether." Caleb was now shaking his head, "How did I manage to find a frightful bitch such as this? Well, no matter. I'll fix that soon enough."

She picked Usara up once more and tossed her onto another bed. Caleb decided he would sleep on the floor. Having sealed off the broken entrance, he took off his trench coat, boots and hat, and finally went to sleep.

Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a show, Caleb thought as he drifted off to sleep, his red eyes closing.

_*Well, what do you think? Reviews are appreciated.*_


	7. Chapter 6: Fate of the Damned

_*Yet another chapter. This time I hope to introduce some of the characters a little better. Anyway, Caleb's journey continues.*_

Caleb suddenly woke as a piercing gale rocked the hideout. As he got up, he noticed his two guests were still asleep. Quickly, he got dressed, and hurried outside to see what the commotion was. He soon found himself in front of a blizzard, snowflakes dotting his pale skin. He, along with his company, won't be going anywhere anytime soon. Sitting on a nearby chair, he waited for his companions to wake, albeit impatiently. The first to do so was Usara. Moaning slightly, she clasped her head as it throbbed and wondered what the hell she was going to do face now.

"Glad to see you're awake, my love." Caleb purred.

Usara shot him a menacing glare. "I am NOT you're _love_, you sick bastard. I would rather be damned than suffer such a fate."

"Angry, aren't we?" Caleb spoke, hints of amusement in his voice. His face then softened. "Actually, that is not what I want to talk to you about. First, we need to get to know each other a little better. I feel as if we got off on the wrong foot."

Usara's eyes widened in horror as she took in what Caleb said. "You don't mean…" she whispered in shock.

Before she could continue, Caleb immediately cut her off. "That is not what I meant Usara. Get your mind out of the gutter and listen to what I have to say. What I want to know is this: How is it that you are a mage?"

Usara's shock-stricken face melted into one of sadness. She pulled her legs up to her chest and stared solemnly at a wall. Caleb could tell he struck a nerve, but this was his intention from the very beginning.

"I don't want to talk about it." She whispered.

"Fine." Caleb sighed, "If you tell me your story, I will tell you mine. But beware; it is not for the faint of heart."

Usara's eyed drifted in surprise to her captor. _What is he plotting?_ She thought.

"Well…" she began, "Alright. It's a dark tale, Caleb. You see, I was once part of the Uther family, a rather renowned one at that. It consists of a long line of Hunters, Druids and Priestesses. We were also known for our strict stance against the arcane arts. I originally wanted to be a Priestess of Elune, serving the goddess with all my might. And so, one day, while an elderly wizard was visiting Darnassus, he gave me one of his books. Said it was his gift for me being so beautiful…" here, she blushed.

"Interesting." Caleb lied.

"…But…" a tear fell down her face, "The day that wizard gave me that infernal book was the day my world started to fall apart. My father, the esteemed druid Dorn Razorick Uther, found out about this ordeal and was furious. He knew my passion for the arcane outmatched his anger, so he took pity on me. He hid my terrible secret from the rest of my family for months…" here, another tear fell down her face.

"Please, go on." Caleb gently ushered.

"Alright…" she paused to collect herself, "I then thought naively that all was well, and that my secret would remain hidden. However, my father slowly became consumed by something at first I didn't recognize, but soon became apparent to me. It was fear." She paused again.

"Fear is a heavy burden to bear…" Caleb mused.

"Indeed." Usara replied, "The fear eventually drove my father mad. He would yell violently at me at times, threatening banishment unless I abandoned my cause. I told him I refused. He then told me that I would regret my words. He then vanished without saying so much as another word. And now I come to that fateful day…" she paused once more. Caleb could tell she was on the verge of spilling a torrent of tears.

"Please." Caleb clasped her hand gently, much to Usara's surprise, "I must know the rest of the story."

"Very well…" she sobbed, "One day, a banquet was made in honor of my family, as well as some of their friends. All was well, until I arrived. Suddenly all eyes were upon me, but they were not the eyes I expected. Some were filled hatred, others with pity and some with fear. I had no idea what was going on until my father made his announcement. He told everyone our secret. As the uproar started, my father calmed them and asked me what I had to say for myself. I then told him that the Uther family was petty and pathetic, and that his rule was weak. Gasps then erupted from the audience, but eventually died down. He grew tired of my insolence and told me that if I wanted to remain in the Uther family, I must vow to forever serve him…" tears were now flowing down her cheeks.

"Please…" Caleb whispered. He didn't know how, but he felt sadness. She was the first person to invoke this feeling ever since…

"Yes…" she managed to continue, "I boldly told him that I serve no one. With his staff in hand, he told me that I left him no choice. The audience dispersed as our fight began. Needless to say, I was no match for him, but I fought anyways. With a quick incantation, he teleported both of us to the trunk surrounding or land, Teldrassil, as he dangled me over the edge. He then told me that it did not have to end this way, and that this path was of my own choosing. I give him one last smile before he released me. I fell to the sea and, after about a day of floating around, I was picked up by a traveling guild. I decided to join and after that, I've been everywhere. The arcane was all that was left to me…" she finally burst into a sob that was muffled by the pillow.

Caleb slowly lifted himself up and walked over to the bed were Usara was weeping. Removing the pillow, he grasped her, pulling the night elf into an embrace and patting her back. The sobbing suddenly stopped as she was caught off guard by Caleb's act of compassion. Caleb was even more stunned by what he was doing. He didn't know what was happening, but what little remained of his humanity surfaced. Perhaps there was more humanity left in him than he could know. He truly didn't know.

"Caleb…" Usara whispered, shuddering slightly.

"I promise I won't leave you." Caleb spoke gently. Just what the HELL is happening to me? Caleb thought furiously.

Without another word, Usara motioned to face him. Moments later, as they stared into each others glowing eyes, Usara planted a kiss on Caleb. He melted as she did this. This wasn't like the last time. This was genuine. Their kissing continued for a little while before Caleb decided to give the night elf a little tongue action. She was surprised by this and melted even further into their act of passion. Caleb's revenge didn't matter at this moment. Arthas didn't matter at this moment. Right now, he was just a man with a woman in his arms.

"Well, this is a nice surprise." Both Caleb and Usara were caught by surprise as they turned to face Arthas. "Don't mind me." Arthas spoke again, "I heard everything. And you have my sympathy, little night elf." He shot her a cocky grin.

"U-uh…Thank you." She stammered.

"Glad to see you were paying attention." Caleb spoke calmly, "We should first get something to eat and then…We'll have a talk."

"Hey." Usara grabbed Caleb's hand. A small smile spread across her face."You still have to tell me your story."

"I promise I will, Usara." Caleb responded placing a small kiss on her forehead.

Hm mm, Caleb thought as the three of them moved towards their respective tasks, looks like things aren't going to be so bad after all. 

_*There you have it. Reviews are appreciated. The story will progress more the next chapter.* _


	8. Chapter 7: Raw Evil

_*Another update. It's more of a dialogue this time, mainly to lay the plot out. *_

"So," Arthas spoke impatiently, "just what is your plan Caleb? Why did you bring me back?"

Caleb eyed Arthas, then Usara, who also spoke timidly, "That's what I want to know, too…"

"Very well." Caleb spoke coolly, "The reason I am holding the both of you here is because I need your help. You see…", and here, Caleb stopped to look at both the human and the night elf in a thoughtful manner before finishing, "I plan to destroy my former master, Kil'jaeden."

Both of his companions now looked at him with disbelief. Even Arthas was unprepared for this. Usara was completely taken by surprise. How could a human be part of the Legion? _Why_ was he a part of the Legion? She would find these things out soon enough.

"That's rather foolish." Arthas spoke indifferently, "Besides, why should I help you? Why don't I just kill you and your little elf?"

Usara's eyes widened when Arthas said this, but Caleb quickly retaliated. "To answer your first question, my dear Arthas: because you simply have nothing left. You are no longer the mighty Lich King and you cannot even fathom of returning to the world of the living; not after the atrocities you committed against the Alliance and the Horde."

Arthas grinded his teeth in anger, but realized that what Caleb spoke was true. He then remembered dying in his father's arms on the top of Icecrown Citadel. Back then, he was glad that it was finally over; that he was free from Frostmourne. But now he realized the reality of his situation. It would never be over. Not in this life or the next.

"And to answer your second question:" Caleb continued, "You can't. You would do well to remember that I trained with demons from the Burning Legion in the arts of necromancy and demonology. Plus, I was actually born several centuries before the First War," here, Usara's eyes widened again, as did Arthas', "so I have more experience than either of you. I may not look that old, but I truly am. Now, I don't wish to resort to violence all the time, since I grow weary of it, but I will if I deem it necessary."

"Alright." Arthas replied with a heavy, but exasperated sigh, "But how can I help you in my weakened state? I can't even feel my powers as a Death Knight anymore…" here, he trailed off.

Suddenly, Caleb noticed something different about Arthas; something that even he found unnerving.

"Wow, Arthas," Caleb replied, observing the fallen prince, "You're looking a little…_pink_ lately."

Usara, who was listening intently now glanced at Arthas and noticed something strange about him. His snow white hair wasn't completely white. In fact…there were some blond strands among the white ones. His skin wasn't as pale as before either, it was actually regaining its color. Usara realized what was happening, but it was Caleb who stated the obvious.

"What…" Arthas whispered hoarsely as he dropped to his knees, "What's…happening?"

"It looks like my resurrection spell worked too well." Caleb explained, "It bonded your soul to your body in such a manner that it reconfigured it to be stronger than before. That is its main effect, anyway. The side effect is that the host of the body, even if undead, will eventually reach a state where it could be considered living. In other words, you're reverting back to your former self…before you became attached to Frostmourne."

"Damn you…Caleb." Arthas regained himself, flushing with hatred, "This is…not what…I w-wanted."

"You should be thanking me." Caleb spoke coldly, "I gave you your old life back. Besides, you were once a paladin, were you not? So I suppose your skills are not completely lost to you. Don't you agree, Usara?"

Usara, glancing over at Caleb, spoke "Yes. I guess you're right." This whole ordeal was growing weirder by the minute.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Caleb spoke, changing the subject, "I have to get some things. I trust you'll like them."

Arthas and Usara glanced at each other briefly before looking back at Caleb as he was descending a flight of stairs. As they waited for him to arrive, Arthas decided to make some small talk with the night elf.

"So," Arthas began, "I can't believe that Caleb has a fetish for night elves; he must really be desperate!" And here, Arthas laughed.

Usara gave a cold glance at the fallen prince, "You filthy pig;" she muttered through clenched teeth, "You think I'm afraid of you? You're nothing more than a coward; one who betrayed his people and himself. You, who are just a twisted version of your former self…" She wanted to say more. The act of speaking up to such a menacing person was exhilarating. However, she couldn't get the chance, as Arthas' hand was now upon her neck.

"You'd be best to watch your tongue, bitch." Arthas hissed, "I may not be the Lich King anymore, but I can still crush an insect like you."

"Ah," Usara clasped Arthas' wrist with her hands as she tried to free herself, to no avail, "let me g-go…"

Arthas was tightening his grip as Usara was preparing a bolt of arcane energy. The two were about to fight when Caleb reemerged. With a flash of his eyes, the two were immediately separated.

"Enough." Caleb spoke lazily, "I don't want you two fighting all the time. Besides, I've brought some things that might be of use to you."

He tossed the bag he was carrying on the floor and its contents spilled out. Among the trinkets and gold, there were several pieces of armor and some robes. Arthas, glancing at some of the armor, soon realized that it was meant for a paladin. Upon further inspection, the truth dawned upon him. It was Uther's old armor, before he perished. The irony was stunning, and Arthas was raging inside because of it. He somehow managed to suppress it.

"Where," Arthas began, pointing to the armor, "did you get that?"

"Oh, you know." Caleb replied, "After all, you were the one who killed him. Finding all of the pieces though was a pain in the ass; and assembling them an even bigger pain. Touching holy items isn't good for my skin, if you know what I mean." Here, he grinned.

"Um, Caleb?" Usara chipped in, holding a majestic robe decorated with many symbols and colors, and, what Usara assumed, were powerful artifacts, in her hands, "Is this for me?"

"Yes." Caleb replied soothingly, "If you're going to quest with me, you're going to need proper gear. And speaking of gear…" Here, he tossed another bag onto the ground.

"I'm offering you more than help, Arthas and Usara." Caleb spoke, "I'm offering you power."

Arthas gripped the massive sword lying on the ground and examined it with awe. He immediately felt a massive power surge as the blade started to glow blue.

"For you, Arthas," Caleb began, "I'm offering you the Angelic Alliance. This powerful artifact, forged many millennia ago by the Eredar, now the draenei, is a testament to their great strength, having slain many demons. I was supposed to destroy it, but then I sensed its purpose and hid it here, waiting for the right time to use it. I guess that time is now…"

Arthas slowly nodded, observing the blade, feeling its holy energy fill his body. He welcomed it, for this was a high unlike any other. Not even Frostmourne made him feel this way; this powerful; this majestic.

Caleb now turned to Usara, who was holding am ornate staff. "For you, Usara," Caleb continued, "I'm offering you Scion's Rod of Ancients. A mighty staff forged by a now long dead race. It holds power that that the races of Azeroth have only begun to understand. I found it when I was campaigning with the Legion and hid it from there sight. I now bestow this staff upon you…"

Usara was mesmerized by the feel this staff had. She could feel her spell power growing exponentially. The night elf began experiencing a high similar to that which Arthas was experiencing. She never felt like this before: so powerful.

"Know this, my friends;" Caleb concluded, "these weapons were not forged by mortal hands."

Arthas looked away from the blade and towards Caleb. "Why do you aide us, Caleb?" he questioned.

Caleb's face took on a somber expression as he spoke, "Because Kil'jaeden must be stopped, Arthas." Here, he motioned them to sit down somewhere, indicating that he was about to tell them as story.

Once both were seated, mere inches away from each other, Caleb began, "I want to tell my part of the story. It's not something that I'm proud of, but it must be stated nonetheless. It's a weakness of mine, you see; I want people to understand me." He eyed both the human and the night elf before continuing, "I already told you I was born several centuries before the First war between the Humans and the Orcs. It was a peaceful era, I will admit. I was once a powerful wizard in training, crafting spells and items of great power. I even remember my mother bragging about my talent to the neighbors." Caleb smiled slightly before continuing, "Like you Usara, I was studying the arcane. It fascinated me at first, and the more I delved into it, the hungrier I became for it. It wasn't long before I started delving into the forbidden arts, much to my master's dismay. I was soon contacted by demons from the Legion, although I didn't know it at the time. I didn't wish to betray my people, but at that point I was so consumed by the need for power that, to me, it was worth any price, even my soul. I pledged allegiance to Kil'jaeden, gained immortality and was on the path of destruction." Here, Caleb's voice took on a darker tone, "But my foolish mistake ended up damning my people and my family; for the Legion soon returned to Azeroth with dreams of conquest. The Third War, in short." Usara's face darkened, while Arthas' remained stoic, "It was I who suggested the Scourge was to be created as a more than suitable replacement for the Orcs. It was I who developed the first strain of the plague and sealed the fate of Lordaeron. It was I who slew my parents, friends, wife, children, and everybody else that I ever cared about, tearing my soul and my humanity to shreds. It was I who took down whole races and watched them burn. It is I, in short, who is responsible for much of the evil that has happened here on Azeroth. And Kil'jaeden must pay for what he has done." Caleb opened his arms before stating, "Behold, friends, the true face of evil."

Usara's face twisted in horror as her mouth remained gaped. Arthas' stoic expression soon matched that of Usara's. Neither of them could believe what they were hearing.

"Caleb…" Usara slowly started, "Is this true?"

"All of it." Caleb replied indifferently.

"I was wrong." She began, "You are not a monster…" Here, her face twisted into that of pure rage, before screaming, "YOU'RE EVIL INCARNATE!"

"I already told you I'm not proud of what I did. I wish to change that by slaying Kil'jaeden and stopping the Legion, if only for a little while. I can't do it alone, and I will accept whatever punishment lies in store for me after this is over. But for now, I wish to…atone for my sins, if only you will find it in your heart to forgive me." Caleb spoke as gently as he could.

Usara's features softened slightly. She knew she had to give him the opportunity. No matter how far one has fallen, they should always have a second chance at life and at redemption.

"Fine…" Usara whispered.

Caleb now turned to Arthas who was watching intently. "What about you, Arthas?" Caleb spoke, "Do you think this new stream of power will ease your pain? Or that you can safely wield the Light again, with anger in your heart?"

"Anger is all I have left, Caleb;" Arthas piped, "anger and revenge…But somewhere in this now living heart, I will promise that I will try."

"Good." Caleb almost whispered, "At least now we can finally start working together. I hope that our alliance will see us through in the end."

Usara, though pain-stricken, managed a small smile. "I am glad." She spoke.

_*That's another chapter. Any feedback is appreciated.*_


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